


Santa's Revenge

by CousinSerena



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Santa, Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Grumpy Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mall Santa Claus, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), playing Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinSerena/pseuds/CousinSerena
Summary: Crowley doesn't like to be left alone when Aziraphale goes off to his gig playing department store Santa.  So, he decides to stow away to cause some mischief.  Little does he know that Santa is quite capable of some mischief of his own!Just a bit of fluffy holiday nonsense.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68
Collections: The Snake Pit





	Santa's Revenge

Aziraphale had always been ridiculous about Christmas, with his constant singing of Christmas carols, and his over the top bookshop decorations (it was hard to see the actual books at this point, underneath all the garland with twinkling lights). A tree had gone up where one would not have thought there was space for it. And, Aziraphale’s Santa Claus figurines and Nutcracker collection took up most of the flat surfaces so that there was no place to set a cup or wine glass.

Worse, the angel had taken things too far this year by taking up a gig as “Santa Claus” at the department store the next street over. Every night for the past week, he’d gotten himself dressed in his red Santa suit, complete with extra padding for his stomach—he wasn’t _that_ out of shape, thank you very much—and walked over to the department store to play Santa for the evening. He’d even miracled his own Santa beard so he would look “more authentic.”

Crowley thought it was very unfair to be left alone every night after dinner. He didn’t want to share his angel with a bunch of kids and their overindulgent parents. His angel was supposed to stay home with him, so that he could keep him warm and ply him with hot cocoa.

“Honestly, Crowley, don’t _pout_ so. It’s just for a few more nights, and it makes the children so happy. You _can_ always come along, you know. You might enjoy yourself.”  
“And do what? Be your ‘Santa’s Helper?’ No thanks, angel. I’ll just go upstairs and have a little nap while you’re gone.”

Aziraphale shook his head. His demon was really very needy at times, and he’d become a creature of habit. 

“Suit yourself, dear boy. I’ll only be gone a few hours, you know.” He gave him a peck on the cheek and received a grumble as a reply. 

When the angel went to grab his black Santa boots from the back room and returned to put them on, Crowley had gone. No doubt getting a start on his nap, the angel thought fondly.

But Crowley hadn’t gone upstairs at all. Instead, he’d had a stroke of genius. While Aziraphale had gone to get his boots, Crowley decided he might just hitch a ride with the angel to have a little fun. And he could do it incognito.

He sat on the sofa and quickly focused, lengthened himself and transformed into his serpentine form. He then miracled himself into a suitably small size. He hid under a throw pillow, and when Aziraphale sat down to pull on his black boots Crowley slithered into the angel’s front right coat pocket.

It wasn’t until they got to the store and “Santa” was seated on his big red chair that Crowley peeked his head out of the pocket curiously and hissed, tasting the air with his tongue.

“Good Lord!” exclaimed Aziraphale as he looked down, “Crowley, is that you? Did you stow away in my pocket, you naughty snake?”

Crowley bobbed his head up and down, the bobs punctuated by the flicking of his tongue. His little snake eyes had a mischievous gleam in them, and unless it was Aziraphale’s imagination it looked like he was grinning at him in a very self-satisfied way.

Aziraphale tutted at him. Really, he _was_ very cute, if exasperating.   
“You know, you _could_ have just come along in your human corporation. What are you playing at? Well in any case, don’t let the children see you. Either stay in my pocket or hide somewhere, you silly thing.”

The sounds of rapidly approaching children and their parents drove Crowley into action.

Crowley slithered out of the pocket and got underneath Aziraphale’s coat through a gap between the buttons. It was nice and toasty in there, between the padding of the suit and the flannel material. He could almost fall asleep. But Crowley had other plans. 

He was able to wriggle his way up and around so that he was coiled loosely under Aziraphale’s collar. He happened to know that the angel was quite ticklish around his ears and neck. He popped his snout out of the back of Aziraphale’s neck and stayed poised there, ready to tickle the back of the angel’s ear with his tiny forked tongue.

He could hear the sounds of children giggling as they waited their turn to see Santa. Aziraphale was handing packages to each child after they sat on his lap and told him what they wanted for Christmas.

He was just telling a little girl that he was sure she’d love whatever she found under the tree on Christmas morning, and he handed her a brightly colored box with a bow.

“There you go, my dear— _oh!_ ” The angel jumped violently and giggled, batting at his ear with his hand as Crowley’s tongue tickled him. “ _Stop it, Crowley_ ,” he whispered. He twitched, trying to repel the snake away from his ear. 

“Are you all right, Santa?” asked the girl.

Her mother’s smile had frozen on her face. “Let’s go, Emma. I think Santa needs a rest.”

“Madam, I assure you…” tried Aziraphale lamely, but he felt a tiny tail wriggling between his shoulder blades and twitched again.

Crowley giggled, though it came out sounding like a sputtering sort of hiss. Crowley was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Santa” was beginning to act very unstable and twitchy.

Oh, this was _fun_.

Next, a little boy came up and Crowley repeated his act, this time going round to the other ear. Just as young Colin was telling Santa how he wanted a puppy for Christmas, Crowley managed to get his long little tongue inside his ear, eliciting a high-pitched sound from the angel that was something between a yelp and a giggle. 

Finally, the line was done—a few of the humans had ducked out when they noticed “Santa” waving his hands erratically and talking to himself—and Aziraphale had a brief break until the next onslaught of families. It had all been great fun for Crowley, and the demon was looking forward to tickling his angel some more. He slithered out and rested on the angel’s lap.

He was expecting a scolding, but instead he heard the angel suddenly making a sound of distress.

“Oh! Oh dear,” Aziraphale moaned. He was looking down at the floor, chagrined.

“What’sssss wrong, angel?

“I seem to have dropped one of the children’s presents and I’ve accidentally kicked it under my chair. I can’t go round and reach under, not in this suit. Can you transform back briefly to get it?”

Crowley hissed a reply, which Aziraphale surprisingly understood.

“No, you can’t retrieve it in snake form. You need hands for this—it’s too heavy. Never _mind_ what it is, can you get it?”

He got another hiss.

“Please, Crowley. Just change back for a minute to help me. You can go back to being a snake right after. You can reach better than I can in this suit. Besides, there’s nobody in line just now to see.”

Crowley hissed again, and made his best effort at rolling his eyes, though that was difficult in his snake form. Fine. He supposed he could interrupt his entertainment to help the angel out. He slithered behind the huge chair and focused on lengthening and thickening himself, then he transformed back into his human demonic form.

He stayed behind the chair, ducked down out of sight. He peered underneath the chair behind “Santa,” looking for the errant object. 

“Angel, I don’t see anything under there.”

“Are you quite sure, dear?” 

“There’s nothing there, honest.”

“Do look thoroughly, Crowley, I know I saw it go under.”

“Blast it all, angel, there’s absolutely nothing there!”

Crowley stood up abruptly in aggravation and came around to stand on Aziraphale’s left side. He was annoyed, and he reached down to dust himself off. 

That was when realized two things with absolute horror:

  1. A second wave of customers was now flooding in—mothers and fathers with small children, all queuing up for a turn in Santa’s lap.
  2. Crowley was no longer dressed in his tight black jeans and black sweater. He looked down at his legs, which were now encased in red and white striped tights. On his feet were a pair of pointed green slippers, and a green fringed tunic barely covered his butt. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the pom-pom dangling off the elf hat that now adorned his head. Only his sunglasses remained. He looked utterly ridiculous. 



Worst of all, he was now being stared at by the gaggle of humans that had lined up for Santa, so he couldn’t miracle his regular clothing back on.

He bent over so he was level with Aziraphale, who had a wicked grin plastered on his whiskered face.

“ _Aziraphale!_ ” he hissed. “ _You bast—_ "

“Language, dear. There are children. And it serves you right for tickling me like that, you old serpent,” the angel whispered back, smirking.

To Crowley’s consternation, he found himself the subject of many of the children’s conversations:

“Mommy, look at the tall ginger elf!”

“Santa, why is the elf wearing sunglasses?”

“Well, Lizzie, maybe he has an eye condition. You know, elves can be differently abled just like regular folks…”

“Daddy, the elf doesn’t look very happy.”

Aziraphale was now openly laughing at him.

“Boys and girls,” he announced to the group, “This is Crowley the Grumpy Christmas elf.”

“Why is he grumpy?” asked a small boy holding his mother’s hand.

“He’s grumpy because he hasn’t had his cocoa yet,” explained Aziraphale. He fought back his laughter, thoroughly enjoying the demon’s discomfort.

Crowley simply stood there, mouth open, wondering if he was having a bad dream. This was unfair of the angel. Wasn’t revenge supposed to be beneath angels? Plus, his tights itched a bit and he wondered if his tunic was really covering his butt. He tugged at it self-consciously.

The grinning angel handed Crowley the big red sack which had been sitting next to his chair on the other side. “Here, Crowley, make yourself useful. Hand these gifts out to the children.”

“Wha—of all the nerve!” How low had he gone? Demon Crowley, Serpent of Eden, dressed as a Christmas elf _and_ being ordered by an angel to hand out toys to children?

“Children, Crowley the Elf will be giving each of you a special gift just for being here with Santa today, ho ho ho!” Aziraphale was enjoying his role very much.

Just then, Crowley felt a persistent tug on the bottom of his ridiculous green tunic. He looked down to see a small curly haired child, a girl of about four, standing there gazing up at him. She held out a candy cane to him. “Don’t be grumpy, Mr. Elf. Have some candy,” she said.

Crowley sighed, and smiled at the little girl. 

“Thanks, dearie,” he said. “And this is for you.” 

Soon it got very busy with children clamoring to talk to Santa and get their little present. Crowley did have to admit the kids were cute. He forgot himself, and managed to get into the spirit of things despite being the victim of Santa’s revenge.

When the last of the children left, the store manager came by. He was very enthused.

“You two were such a hit,” he said, “I’d like to take your picture to put in our store window to advertise this.”

“Wot??” sputtered Crowley. “Oh no, no I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not actually—”

“We’d love to!” beamed the angel. 

“That’s great. We’ll have a poster right in the front window. You _will_ be back again with Santa, won’t you?” he asked Crowley expectantly.

“Uh, well, I….sure,” he sighed, knowing when he’d been defeated.

When the two of them were alone, Crowley was too annoyed to say anything. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he’d deserved what he got, and he wasn’t going to tell the angel he’d ended up enjoying himself.

He transformed himself back into a snake instead.

Aziraphale scooped him up and he coiled into his hands, rewarding the angel with a cross hiss. Aziraphale only made it worse by kissing the top of his little head and smiling at him affectionately.

“It’s all right, I’ll carry you in my nice warm pocket all the way home, my dear.”

He tucked Crowley into his toasty pocket, promising cocoa upon their return to the shop.

The next morning, there was a colorful poster right in the front window of the department store advertising “Santa and Crowley the Christmas Elf.”

**Author's Note:**

> A nod to mirawonderfulstar for the idea of “pocket sized” Snake Crowley: Travel-Sized.
> 
> **If you liked this, please do leave a comment, I live for them!!


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